


The Witch Curse

by Clueingforlooks221B



Series: WOY-tober Challenge 2016 [7]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: But not a full cat just ears and a tail, Cat Peepers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Death Glare - Freeform, Deathglare, Fluff, M/M, Witch Curses, purring peepers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueingforlooks221B/pseuds/Clueingforlooks221B
Summary: WOY-tober day 26. Peepers sob kicks Lord Hater into action, fury and protectiveness warping in his cloud of chartreuse and frying his previous anxieties. “What did you do to him?!” Lord Hater turns to face the elderly witch, shamrock devouring his yellow gloves. The air around him lifts and statics, rustling past his ears and lifting his coat. “Oh shoot, I missed.” The top of the witch’s wrinkled chapped lips curl as his pupils glance down at himself, darkening in irksomeness. His gaze doubles in irritation as it meets his original target, completely unfazed by Hater’s drab emerald eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had so much schoolwork lately so wasn't able to finish this in time, so that's why it's slit up into multiple chapters. Enjoy!

A zagged burst of neon orange punches Peepers in the chest, knocking the air out of his system as he collapses. His lungs cower as unbelievable pain, somehow worse than Hater electrocuting him, encases his veins and absorbs his organs. Vision now stark white his ears screech at his senses to stay alert, crisp ringing resonating through his eardrums. He pulls his thrashing limbs into a tucked ball, attempting to stay still hoping the pain will elude out of him. Squeezing his eye shut he whimpers, the agony intensifying to burning. Flames are igniting his organs, and the inside of his lids are so dry they feel like they’re being coated in his organs ashes. Around the top of his lid and butt the pain hurts the most. Never before has he been this hot. He’s coated in a thick layer of boiling sweat, and with each thrash is drowning in it. The sweat peels his skin, and glues his uniform to himself. His eye opens, and thought the haze he sees Hater hovering nearby. His expression akin to a child lost in a grocery store, hands hanging uselessly in front of his chest. Fear is coated around his irises, and for a few moments he is mute. 

Peepers cries out, tears scorching his bottom lids as they limp out of the corners of his eye. With each passing second everything gets worse. 

So this is how the commander is going to go. By a dumb witch curse. 

Peepers and Hater had heard from the towns people this man was the most powerful man on the planet. They had both laughed at the sight of him, seated in a rocking chair wearing bright pink slippers while knitting. Thinking the planets people were joking with them they were going to go back to conquering the planet, but Hater started mocking the man. Sure Peepers contributed, but Hater took it to far per usual. By the time the elder adjusted his hearing aid to tune into what these intruders were spewing, he got up to grab his timber wand. He took forever to get to it, yet still managed to attack them. He aimed for Hater, but missed and hit the poor bystander. 

All Hater had done was take a step to the right to avoid the spell, about to voice “really?”, but the words halted when Peepers started screeching.

The man didn't even do any cool sneak attacks or monologuing, he just went straight to shooting. Amateur. 

Peepers always hoped to go by saving Lord Hater, but right now his thoughts are plastered together by desperation and pleads of oh please don’t let me die I can’t I haven’t done everything I wanted to yet I’m too young I haven't even finished that plan yet. 

Peepers sob kicks Lord Hater into action, fury and protectiveness warping in his cloud of chartreuse and frying his previous anxieties. “What did you do to him?!” Lord Hater turns to face the elderly witch, shamrock devouring his yellow gloves. The air around him lifts and statics, rustling past his ears and lifting his coat. 

 “Oh shoot, I missed.” The top of the witch’s wrinkled chapped lips curl as his pupils glance down at himself, darkening in irksomeness. His gaze doubles in irritation as it meets his original target, completely unfazed by Hater’s drab emerald eyes. 

He clicks his bumpy lavender tongue on top of the inky roof of his mouth, humming to himself. “And wrong spell too I bargain.” The pads of his fingers rub at the almost nonexistent strands of alabaster hairs freckled along his chin as he hobbles over to his spell book. Adjusting his tiny wired reading glasses on the tip of his round nose, he peers through them. “Hmm let’s see here,” His tongue bangs along the roof of his mouth again, emitting clicking sounds that whisper through Peepers screeching. His wrinkled thin finger skips along the words on the page. “Are you feeling any burning sensations?” He glances past his short wooden table to Peepers, who is rolling on his mulberry carpet. His spine digs into the rigid fabric as broken yelps are schlepped out of his constricted diaphragm. 

All the commander hears is his palpitating whining heart stabbing his eardrums. Charing moisture leaks out of his closed lids, and when he opens them the room is decorated in black and white dots that leap in his iris. It’s become unbearable, the top of his lid and butt are on fire. He’s gasping, but the oxygen hinders more than helps since it’s so thin and smoldering to his lungs. Attempting to drag in air one last time, the dots combine to an onyx blanket. Desperately he turns his head, but the motions feeling dragged out. He can’t see anything, but knows he’s rotated his eye to where Hater is. His last fleeting thought before he founders into blazing unconsciousness is that at least he got to die besides Lord Hater. 

Limbs freezing, the commander falls mute. Hater stares, eyes widening as midnight obscures his irises. 

“Oh my grop.” Hater plummets to the ground, knee caps bashing into the fibers of the greasy carpet. “Peepers?” Hater lightly touches Peepers slim shoulder blades, turning him towards him. On the top of his lid is something black that is laid tightly against his lids. Hater squints at the two black spots on the top of his lid, angling his head to the right to see the peeks of sable better. 

“C Peeps?” He mumbles, racing heart calming since his puzzled thoughts distract his panic. Placing his hand in the middle of his commanders back he draws him closer to see the top of his eye better. Silk coils around his wrist, and at first Hater basks in how nice the warm fabric feels against his bones.   Then he remembers Peepers uniform isn't silk, and realizes the smoothness is inching up his bones. 

Hater jolts, a slimy sensation soaring up his spine as he shoves his wrist away from the silk. Peepers slams back onto the carpet, the black triangles on his top lid shooting up. Hater jumps back at the sight of them, before inching closer to examine Peepers closer. A long thin raven tail slithers out from Peepers now ripped pants, and all Hater can muster to do is stare with his loose jaw. 

“Ah, I see. It’s the potion that turns a person in a cat. But I didn't put the cloves in, so it altered the spell to give him cat appendages instead. So the spell will ware off for him in even less time. Typically it wares off in,” The man eyes trace across the smudged words, “seven days, so for him it should all ware off in three to four days. Unless it stays permanently, but that’s in extremely rare cases.” The witches eyes are narrowed, continuing to intently focus on the scribbles in his book. 

Lord Hater rolls his eyes. “Uh yeah duh! I can see that!” The elder glances up, eyes raking over Peepers. He nods, pulling his book to a soft close. He takes off his glasses, placing them on top of the book. 

“Well then, you’re very lucky Mr. Hater.” He waggles his wrinkled finger at Hater. “Lesson learned for trying to take over my planet.” 

Hater’s eyes bulge, crimson veins popping in contrast to his chartreuse irises. “WHAT?! YOUR PLANET?!” He roars, descending quickly upon the elderly witch. The man nods, and shamrock laps at Hater’s clenched fists. “THIS PLANET IS MINE! Because I’M the one IN CHARGE! I’VE taken over your planet, because I’M LORD HATER THE GREATEST IN THE GALAXY!” Neon green electricity warps around the elder, entwining along his spine and roasting his core. The man flails, vision flashing in bright colors as green shadows cast across the front of his figure, dripping off his melting flesh.

The witch slumps against his table, panting. His white hair has been burnt to obsidian crips, most falling out. 

Low moaning echoes of the witches maroon walls, pulling Hater out of his zone. He sharply turns, energy vanishing into the atmosphere as his focus switches back to a twitching Peepers. The commander has rolled onto his left side, trembling as he blearily blinks. His coal tail swooshes leisurely behind him, and his ears are swiveled and extending flat horizontally. Palms scratching against the carpet, he shakily pulls himself up. His helmet fell long ago and lies several feet away. He’s made eye contact with it, tail swooshing as he pulls himself together to start crawling towards it. 

Hater struts over, grabbing the helmet before Peepers struggles to attempt to get it. “Thank you sir.” Peepers rasps out, holding his hand out for it while he remains on the ground. Lord Hater doesn't pass it over, instead switching the helmet to clutch it in between his elbow and side. He knows Peepers will shove it on his head, and there’s no way the helmet is going to fit with his ears. 

Peepers upper lids tilt into a w, ears swiveling to the side and descending flat again. “Sir?” He prompts. Pushing his palms against the floor he stands, immediately staggering. His hands shoot out, and his whole weight leans completely from his right foot to his left one. Chest heaving he blinks drowsily, glancing up through his drooping lid at Hater. He groans, “What happened to me?” 

Hater clutches his jaw, avoiding eye contact, “Well apparently the old guy is a witch so he cursed you,” Peepers eye widens, all traces of exhaustion fleeting. “but I totally destroyed him! He begged me for mercy and totally regretted it. I was all roaring and like being all awesome and stuff and totally roasted him. I showed him for messing with my buddy!” 

“A witch?! Wait a minute, cursed?!” Peepers eye hangs down, lids gaping. The prickling sensation worsens into a scathing tickle at the top of his eye, tainting his concentration of the conversation occurring. Figuring it’s a side-effect of the magic (which he isn't wrong about, technically) he reaches up to scratch to attempt to numb the feeling. Expecting to run his nails along smooth skin, he jumps when the pads of his fingers come into contact with soft fur. Slowly he brings his hands up, running them along his ears to attempt to feel out what they are. Sharp shocks of pleasure shoot down his spine, and from reaching into the inside of his new ears he fears he knows what the appendages are. They twitch beneath his hands, and the itching behind him intensifies. Leisurely he turns to look behind him, and is met with a tail. 

Lids gaping he turns back to Hater who is sheepishly simpering. “Sir…” His words screech, saturated in apprehension. Honestly he doesn't know what to say, disbelief curling up in his esophagus and clogging the screams that bounce in his brain. 

“It’s not that ba- actually yeah no it’s noticeable, but it’s not ugly or freaky it’s-“ Hater words fumble across his tongue, and he swallows the syllables and vowels he decides not to voice. 

“How long am I going to be like this?” Peepers forces his racing heart to calm, brining forth plans on how to conceal himself and ways to deal with this to distract his anxiety. 

“Three, four days… or possiblyforever but probably not it’s rare tobeforever.” The words slam into each other, stretching the apprehension in his tone. 

Three or four days? Or permanent? The thick wad of salvia glued to Peepers esophagus thickens drastically, and he desperately lurches for the last strings of calmness he has to slow his pulsating heart. 

“Sir I can’t go back to the army like this!” Peepers whines, and he can feel his new, augh, tail behind him flickering eluding his irksomeness. 

Hater shrugs, “Sure you can C Peeps. It’ll ware off soon, so in the mean time just stay on the ship. We just won’t do any invasions.” 

Peepers mules it over, realizing he really doesn't have any other options but to go on the ship. Great now all the watchdogs were going to see him like this… how humiliating. There’s no way he can hide these stark twitchy new appendages. Perhaps he’ll just hide out in his and Hater’s room for the whole time. 

Ha! Yeah right, the army would fall apart if he even hid out for one day. When Hater fired him a while ago he hadn't even been gone for three hours before something drastic had happened. Peepers smirks at the vivid memory. Sure his men would laugh, but they couldn't deny that they needed him. Besides Peepers guesses the spell could have been worse. 

Besides Hater will be there for him. After all he hasn't laughed at all, yet. 

Sighing, Peepers gives into reality. “All right sir, let’s go.” 

Jaw tilting into a simper, Hater hands Peepers his helmet back. Gripping the helmet Peepers cringes at his reflection through the sable glass. He can just make out the foggy appearance of his new cat ears. 

Sucking in one last breath, Peepers embarks onto the ship. He stays a step behind Hater, hoping to drown in his shadow and be concealed from their eyes. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Screeching silence echoes in his ear drums, and already he’s beginning to notice that everything is so much louder. It is like his senses have been cranked up to overload. Every step of Hater’s sneakers against the marble floor makes his ears literally curl into themselves and his tail become fluffier and taunt. 

Everyones eyes are glued to Peepers. Murmurs creep into the hallways, growing heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Peepers can hear everything from the hushed whispers in the backs of the forming crowds to the over-annunciated mouthed words in the fronts of the crowds. The commander forces himself to stay deadpanned, and maintain his posture. But his flat ears and stiff tail give his emotions away. 

The word that he hates the most falls out of the lids of one of his men in the center of the crowd. “He looks so cute.” 

Peepers jolts at that stark word. It shreds his ear drums and punches his temples. He despises that word. That stupid belittling word that makes him feel so… 

His ears and tail droop, and he fully submits himself to the hell he knows these next three to four days are going to be. Or, by his luck, for the rest of his days.


	2. Chapter 2

For once Peepers hates meetings. There’s something he never thought he would think. Well, other then in the instances when Hater or some watchdog is running the meeting… 

Yet even when Hater or the watchdogs weren't the one in charge, they could still find ways to be annoying. 

Lord Hater is tapping his foot against the marble ebony floor, and wont’t stop. With each vicious pound of the pad of his sneaker onto the floor it scratches along the insides of Peepers new ears. His thin fingers pummel across the faded timber table, his other (thankfully) empty hand innocently smashed underneath his jaw. Chartreuse irises are clouded, clearly not comprehending anything Peepers is saying as usual. 

The tips of his fingers naw at the palms of his crimson gloves, and his ears flatten against his top lid. Honestly that’s been there resting position for the majority of the day, sinking down lower when Hater prodded at them demanding that he missed when they were pointed. The sable chairs on his tail perk up as his tail droops. A growl bubbles in his throat, veins crawling across his iris. But instead of his usual grouse, a guttural moan shoots out straight from his diaphragm. 

For the second time that day Peepers ears pop up, eye growing large.   On the bright side, Hater’s obnoxious tapping stills. 

Everyone stares at him, wide eyes eluding shock and causing the air to become taunt. Peepers clears his throat, leisurely forcing his stiff limbs to turn back to his board. “As I was saying…” He trails off into his scheme again, attempting to focus on the words but scorching humiliation leaks between the crevices of his brain tainting his logic. 

As he turns Hater’s jaw snaps into a smirk, and taps the watchdog sitting besides him. The watchdog jolts, twisting his back towards him with a shrunken pupil. Lord Hater points to the paper full of notes, motioning the watchdog to pass it over to him. Excitement bounces in his pupils, while fear continues to inject into the watchdogs pupil, depleting it. With trembling hands he slides the paper over. All the while the sleek sliding cuts through the air, penetrating Peepers ears and leaving him with paper cuts. He cringes, shoulder hopping to the junction between his chin and collar bone A spitting hiss hurdles out of his clenched lids, but goes unnoticed by everyone along with the paper being passed. 

Thick crumbling plunges the notice of the watchdogs near Hater, whose grasping at the ruined notes of the watchdog besides him. His bottom lid scrunches up, drenched in sorrow, but Hater’s smirk stretches wider. Eliciting his hand backwards, he squints one of his eyes shut, aiming for the edge of the table in front of Peepers. 

The watchdogs poke each other, and they all watch in anticipation wondering what Lord Hater is going to do. 

“Uh, C Peeps I have a question.” Hater composes his tone, making the words floats in aloofness. 

Peepers boots shift, spinning against the floor as Hater tosses the balled up piece of paper. Mutely, everyones eyes trace the motions of the ball as it drops a foot away from Peepers, skipping across the table. 

With his long exhale his spine caves into himself, lids slanting downwards to conceal half of his pupil. “Sir, I’m not a dog.” His ears lie firmly against his upper lids once more. 

“Uh yeah, I know that.” Through his amicable facade he momentarily appears disappointed, before sharp glistening drains the dimness out of his cheekbones. 

He angels himself to face the board full of scribbles again, back facing Hater. 

Lord Hater begins to bounce the ball between the palms of his yellow gloves, ball of paper itching its jagged back along the timber tabletop. 

Reluctantly Peepers gradually shifts around, irksomeness shoving his cherry iris in the roof of his upper lid. 

Smirk staining his jaw, Hater pops the paper over to the watchdog besides him. Getting the message, he slides the ball across the table to another watchdog, who flicks it to another watchdog. When it returns to Hater he passes it sharply from palm to palm again, and Peepers pupil is glued to the motions. His obsidian ears are extend upwards, and his tail is lifted and curved at the end. 

Hater doesn't break eye contact as he shifts the ball to the watchdog two seats down from him, who quickly skids it down the row a tad. 

Peepers leaps before he can comprehend what he’s doing, and the watchdogs lids snap upwards. They start to throw the ball of paper, Peepers darting for it but missing each time. Lightly snickering they all toss it to each other, speed growing faster and faster. Finally when it’s chucked to Hater the commander is victorious. “Ha!” Peepers darts backwards from Lord Hater, paper clenched in his fist. 

Everyone mirrors Hater’s smirk, and at the rare lightness in the air reality smacks into Peepers conscious. Logic swarms back in, and he slams the wad of paper into the garbage bin. His tail fluffs out, plummeting down as obese irritation sits on his ears for the umpteenth time. “And I’m not a kitten either!” 

The watchdogs all nod, vibrantly not buying his panic saturated consonants. Lord Hater shrugs, “No of course not, you’re a cat.” 

He feels like Hater’s electricity has just been warped around his onyx tail. The individual thick hairs stand tall, and his eye dilates. Shaking his head, he swivels back to his board. He squints at the scribbles, attempting to recall where he left off in his plan. “Ah yes, so the…” 

The syllables fade in the hazy atmosphere, Hater’s patting against the ground drowning out the commander’s words further. He resumes his usual position of his right hand supporting his skull while his left knocks along on the wooden table. Each beat is coal that fuels Peepers flaming fury, driving his tail stiffer and fluffier. 

Whipping around Peepers rose eye darkens to a ruby. He hisses, spit flying, “and CAN YOU PLEASE STOP THAT?!” 

Lord Hater stills, and the watchdogs peer and squint at their commander. Hater glances at his soldiers, but no one offers him any answers.“Stop what?” 

“Can cats read minds or something?” One of the watchdog’s ires dissolves to a paler shade of chiffon as he whispers the inquiry to the watchdog besides him. The soldiers pupil widens. 

Peepers ears pick up the mumbled words, but even without his new appendages the commander knows he would have heard the uttered question. He groans, ignoring the stupidity that numbs his brain. 

“That tapping!” Peepers stomps his foot, narrowed lids twitching at Hater. He blinks.

The commander tosses his arms up. “You know what! Forget this none of you are even listening anyways! Meeting closed, everyone just get back to their bases.” He shakes his hand dismissively, and the watchdogs trickle out of the room quickly taking the opportunity to scatter.

His tail droops, spine hunching as he lets loose a boiling impenetrable exhale. With the pads of his fingers he rubs his upper lid, eye slipping closed. 

Hater stands, pushing his chair in. Peepers cringes at the squeaky wheels that screech against the floor. 

Oblivious Lord Hater stares at his commander whose swaying, top lid drooping. “Do you want to get some food?” Hater peers at him, concern leaking in the corner of his eyes. 

He nods, tastebuds curling into themselves craving bitter loud coffee. 

Slinking besides Hater he leans into his side, ears digging into his bony hip as Peepers sluggishly trudges to the food court. Lord Hater slows his steps even more than usual to fall into step besides Peepers, wrapping an arm around him to keep him upright. 

In his mind thoughts soar as to why Peepers is so tired. He’s normally so strict on going to bed at the same ridiculous early time and waking up at the crack of the crack of dawn. He plunges the clogging apprehension out of is esophagus, figuring it must have been something in the spell.


	3. Chapter 3

Peepers didn't sleep at all last night. 

And no, it wasn’t because of the haunting realization that he was stuck with cat ears and a tail for, at the very least, forty-eight hours. It was the… physical, aspect of his new appendages.  
  
He never realized how scratchy his pillow case was, or that Hater and Captain Tim snored. Loud. 

But he wouldn't have needed his cat ears to be able to hear it. Usually he had his headphones in, but didn't bother last night knowing that they would suffocate his cat ears. Regardless he was always the first one to go to bed, so even without headphones he wouldn’t have heard their snoring. Captain Tim would usually join him next, far on the other side of the bed. Later Hater would come, game console in hand as he played video games at a low volume. The bright lights would skip across Peepers closed lids, but by then he would be fast asleep and oblivious. 

Last night was different though. It was the worst night of Peepers life, and that’s considering a lot. At least when he would lie down after a hard day, sleep would be there to warm him up. Sleep was always there to numb the pain or conflicted feelings, and was something that never failed to calm him. Sleep was the best, the mere word dropping plumps of heavy serenity into Peepers heart and making his lids crack into a simper. 

For the first time in his life, sleep failed him. His headphones too! 

The moment he first laid down he had leapt back up. His position he sleeps in is on his back, but he usually didn't have to worry about a tail in the mix. It had been squashed against the mattress under all of his weight.

As he shot up yelping his tail fluffed, and ears popped. Heart pulsating, his shrunken pupils darted around the marble ebony walls of their room, thankful Hater hadn't been there. Captain Tim had perked at his yowl, tilting his head at him. Nothing typically got Captain Tim to move once he was settled on napping, unless a watchdog or enemy came into the room. 

With shaky limbs Peepers eased himself back down, attempting to lie on his side. But his left ear was in the same compromising position his tail had just been in, smashed against the pillow. The scratchy material of his pillow case raked the insides of his soft ear, prickling. Peepers lied on his elbows, bombarding his mind for any other positions to sleep. He figured his belly, but his ears still got in the way. But that was better than full on smashing them when he was on his back or sides. 

He had to lie in his pillow, face down. Not only was it hard to breath, but it was very uncomfortable. 

Hater threw a quizzical glance at his position when he fumbled into the room a bit later, before kneeling down to set up the television and slide his game in. 

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he glanced between Peepers and the second game console. The pads of his fingers swiped it up as he leaned suddenly for it, flopping onto the bed. The commander’s body was sent soaring several inches into the air, before he plummeted back down. He groaned, lids buried into the chiffon pillow. 

Hater cleared his throat, the noise thrashing through his ear drums and nagging Peepers conscious to give Hater his attention. Gradually raising his head, he shifted his weight back to his perched elbows. Glowering at Hater, he was given in return wavering tilted lips that were dripping in doubt. His extended hand nudged his shoulder softly with the second player game console, chartreuse irises glimmering in hope. 

Peepers head dropped, shoulders hunching around his pupil. An exhale that was dragged up from his diaphragm flooded the matters below, punching his chest with heated air. Sinking upwards he pawed the remote out of his hand, giving into not sleeping that night. 

Hater smirked, slamming the start button on the console. On his knees with narrowed lids Peepers pulled the console into his chest, beginning the low quality game. 

As time wore on Peepers lids started dropping, and he swore that he could fall asleep on his knees. He was so desperate to give in, but knew he would just end up falling flat on his face. Even barely conscious he was rocking, surroundings swimming. With bleary vision he twists his eye, focusing on Hater. Tongue sticked out, the pads of his thumbs smacked the buttons, the thick clicks resonating through the environment. Bones tense he leaned closer to the huge television, vibrating with nerves. He was close to beating the game; Peepers character having died permanently awhile ago. 

Darkness eloped around Peepers. It feels so good. So warm, and safe. Just resting his eyes won’t hurt, there’s no way he could fall asleep in that position anyways. 

“YES!” Hater erupted, throwing his console on the mattress as his arms flew up in sync. Peepers lids cracked open, sand soaring out of them as he fell forwards. His arms flailed uselessly as his eye slammed into the mattress. 

Hater blinked, glancing over at his commander. Peepers moaned, palms of his hands sliding against the mattress as he wearily sat back up on his knees. 

Reaching for both of their consoles Hater placed them on the bedside table, fumbling with the remote to turn the television off. Pulling the covers back with one hand, his other rested on Peepers stomach. He shifted a wobbling Peepers backwards, pulling him into his chest to get the covers fully down. Releasing him he crawled under the covers, patting the empty gaping space besides him. Rolling his eye Peepers was too tired to comment, flopping face first into his pillow. Immediate regret rings in his temples, his ears and tail stiffening. Leisurely twisting he did his best to get as much pressure off his ears as possible. 

Lord Hater quickly fell asleep, much to Peepers jealousy that stained the airwaves. As he breathed it in, it crawled in the crevices of his brain. His thoughts were turned on to full blast, acting as caffeine to him. 

The buzzing quickly wore off to desperation, and Peepers was so tired, yet no matter what he tried could not go to bed. 

By three am tears of frustration offered warmth, but his fury was already boiling. The salty liquid pooling in his collarbones, scorching his chest. They added coals to his flaming irksomeness as he failed to find a comfortable position.

He started his duties much more earlier than usual, nursing a jumbo mug of bitter soot coffee in his gloves. 

—————

Stark obsidian loiters under Peepers bottom lid, tugging it father south and burying in the crevices of his bottom lid. His fingers bite into the thick stack of papers clutched to his chest, the only thing grounding him to reality right now. He blinks, stinging warping on the insides of his lids and staining his ivory iris in wax. Every blink protests, and his vision is blearier than ever. With each step is an aftertaste of protest as his legs trudging down the seemingly never ending hall. It’s so nice and dark in the halls; he is so tired. 

For the umpteenth time his ears twitch, detecting a whirring vehicle in the galaxy far from the ship. 

He can’t wait to have these stupid appendages off. 

His ears twist into the direction where the noise of a rumbling engine is getting louder, and Peepers halts. Curiosity nagging at his senses, he shifts closer to the hallway wall. Each passing moment the engine sounds like it’s getting closer and closer. 

Wait a flarging moment. Peepers knows the sound of that engine! It’s Awesome’s! 

Oh grop. Peepers jolts, leaping ahead and rolling a few inches. Right on his heels the metallic walls of the hallway burst open, air whipping around the blinding alabaster limo that pounces through the wall. 

Awesome slams on the breaks, limo coming to a sudden halt half way through the hall. High pitch screeching echoes through Peepers ear drums, his vision shimming as he is knocked from his stance. He wavers, limbs trembling as his palms nurse his ears before his thoughts catch up to what just happened.

Surroundings doubled he cautiously twists to peer over his shoulder, just in time to see the sun roof of Awesome’s limo slide open. A fingerless-gloved hand erupts out of the roof, and in one swift movement Awesome swings himself out of the limo. Gracefully he lands on the marble floor, heels of his alabaster boots pounding into the floor. 

The commander whips around, vision steadying as he pushes his light-aired limbs to briskly rush back to the meeting that is bound to start soon. That’s all he’s been doing all day, meeting after meeting with the same blank stares from each different group of watchdogs and Lord Hater. 

Sharp tingling races up Peepers arm, a strong hand chomping into his slim wrist. Awesome cackles as he thrashes Peepers around to face him. The commander hisses, all his senses heightened and leaking in pain. “Oh my grop I didn't think it was real! I thought it was photoshopped!” He releases Peepers writs to clutch both of his knee caps, upper body caving into himself to support his body that is crumbling from his bitter laughter. 

Arm and ears numb now the commander opts for not commenting, beginning to walk at a bit of a slower pace to emit rays of casualness. 

“I cant’t believe this! Oh man bro!” A bright light smacks the floor in front of Peepers, a blaring click bouncing along the walls. Low chortling dances in Peepers crouched ears as boisterous typing ensues behind him. The commander doesn't have to look to know Awesome just took a picture of him, no doubt posting it where the whole galaxy would see it. His humiliation swells. 

He rounds the corner, gloom heavy cobalt waves drenching his shoulders as he enters the small meeting room. Hater, oblivious, looms over a small game console. His fingers dance across the buttons, jaw open as his eyes bore into the tiny blinding screen. A short tune that mockingly lowers in pitch mimics Peepers mood, and Hater throws the console down on the table in front of him, tossing his head back to groan. He glances up at Peepers, drab chartreuse irises lightening before his pupils shift behind him, his irises darkening even more drastically. “What the- Awesome?!” 

The emperor leans against the small ebony door frame, arms crossed as his eyes rake over Hater’s tensing form. “Sup Hatey,” He nods, and the nickname causes Hater’s teeth to grind. “like the new appendages on your bf?” Awesome extends his hand to where the commander is a foot in front of him, flicking his right ear harshly. A spitting hiss soars out of Peepers scrunched lids, his shoulders jumping up to his lower lid. 

Awesome guffaws, “Bro that’s hilarious! Peeps are telling me he got witch cursed.” 

Peepers runs his fingers through his right ear, attempting to flatten the raised hair and ease the ache away. “Yes, yes. Was there something you needed, or did you just come barging in to see me?” 

His lips stretch into a biting smirk. “Meow,” His tongue bounces the trudged vowels off his tastebuds, mouth twisting into a reeking grin. He props himself onto the obsidian table, crossing his ankles as he slouches back. Hater glowers, not at all approving his stance, but Awesome’s mirth only grows stronger from this. “I had to see if this was real.” 

The commander crosses over to Hater, plopping the stack of papers down in front of him. As he does so Awesome’s fingers return, flicking his ear a tad bit lighter this time. His draw back doesn't ease the discomfort though, only serving to further irk Peepers. Discomfort penetrates Peepers pupil, shrinking it and causing his shoulders to roll into himself. A hiss he can’t control drips out again, eye slamming shut. 

Awesome tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he keeps his extended hand out. He cups it, reaching for the back of the commanders onyx ear this time. Awesome starts to pet Peepers this time, wondering how he’ll react. Sure enough, his response is just what Awesome suspected. It doesn’t stop his eyes from widening though, nor the smirk that comes back wider that stains his cherry lips. 

A shot of electricity tears up his spine, and for a second the commander thought Hater shot him. His mind blanks, and everything is wiped out leaving serenity in its chaotic traces. Peepers leans into his palm, bones slowly unwinding. The uncomfortableness dribbles off his bones, and rumbling pours off his chest. 

Just as sudden as it came, it’s ripped away from him. “STOP THAT!” Shamrock erupts around Peepers as he is tugged backwards by blistering rough hands that munch into his abdomen. He falls, collapsing between Hater’s legs. Lord Hater grips his wrists with his right hand, electricity zapping his already wincing wrists. Peepers jolts from it, the unpleasant electricity replacing the earlier comforting one. Behind him Hater stiffens, before softly rubbing Peepers wrists with the palm of his hand in a silent apology. 

Awesome’s smirk only enlarges somehow. “Relax Hatey, I don’t want your nerd.” 

Chest heaving Peepers struggles to regain breath, right ear throbbing and craving more. Irritation gnaws at his chest at the feeling of desperation that claws at his heart for it to occur again. Once his mind clears a little he fixes his crimson eye in a glare that doesn't contain much anger. “Where did you even find out about this?” 

Awesome’s lips slouch, “Psh nerd of course you wouldn't know. It’s all over the gram.” 

The commander digs through his mind of what Awesome is talking about. His immediate string of thought is that it’s a measurement from some planet, but there’s no way that could be what Awesome’s talking about… right?

Throwing his head back, a low groan is dragged across his esophagus. “Ugh bro really? Instagram,” He over enunciates the words, deadpanning. “All your watchdogs are posting about it, even Hatey did.” His pupils dart upwards towards Hater, focusing on him. The smirk returns, as does Hater’s stiffening. He pales somehow, sweat lapping at his temples. 

Peepers whips around in his arms, fighting to tug his wrists free of Hater’s hand. He fails. “What?! Sir!” 

“The watchdogs did it before me!” Noticing Awesome’s gaze boring at him, he attempts to maintain a cool facade. He forces his words to gradually plow the air, deepening his tone. “And besides I knew it would get viral,” His pitch heightens, “Even Dominator liked it! And she’s never liked any of my posts, she’s not even following me!” 

Awesome’s lips collapse, slackening. The words in his throat ball up at the mention of her name, and this time he’s the one blanching. He stutters, pupils void and irises swallowing his eyes. Peepers studies him in puzzlement, but before he can voice his inquiry Wander bursts in. 

Top lid dropping Peepers mumbles, “Grop, who isn't here?” 

Peepers blinks, and Wander is right in front of him blinding him with his blazing chiffon gaping grin. “Oh my gosh Syl showed me online and I can’t believe this! Argh you’re even cuter now and I never thought that’d be possible cause you’re already so adorable!” Tangerine arms hoist him up from in between Hater’s legs, constricting around his diaphragm. The hands bite into his tail, causing him to bite down his yelp. Wander readjusts him in his arms, returning to squeezing him in a choking hug. 

Sylvia smirks, leisurely descending towards the pair. “Yeah I can’t take you seriously,” Laughter breaks through her words, and she takes a moment to barrel out loads of cackles. Moisture gathers in the corners of her eyes as airy cackling continues to rip through her ribs. “Grop I mean I normally can’t, but I really can’t now!” Peepers deadpans, ears flattening against his upper lids and tail swatting. The zbornak starts to laugh harder, snorting. 

Peepers barks out fake laugher that is saturated in salt and a pinch of hurt. “Y’okay we all saw my ridiculous ears and tail now. I’m leaving.” He swipes the papers off Hater’s desk, wrestling in Wander’s arms to escape his embrace. With his empty hand he shoves at his chest, but to Wander it feels like a kitten pawing at him. 

“Aww Mr. Peepers I’m sorry I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, please don't leave!” He eases Peepers down to the ground, but keeps one of his hands on his wrist.

Honestly what is up with people touching his wrists today?! 

Wander draws his hand up, reaching to tangle his fingers in Peepers ears. Panic heightens his senses, and with all his weight he flails to get Wander’s hand off his wrist. Man, he’s got a strong grip. Before he can say “don’t you even think about it you wandering weirdo” Wander’s fingers meet their target. All that escapes him is a whispering broken high exhale. Luckily oblivious to this Wander turns to Hater, hands stroking Peepers ears. “When’s it supposed ta wear off?”

This time all Hater can do is glower, his commander being too far for him to yank out of the situation. “Three to four days.” He grinds out. 

Wander nods, figuring that’s not bad at all. “How’d it happen? I’ve never seen anything like this! Well except that one time that is kinda similar when-“ 

“-Yeah no one cares!” Hater rushes out, fury heightening at seeing Peepers not negatively reacting to Wander touching him! “He got cursed by some stupid old witch or something.” 

Wander remains oblivious to Peepers whose entire body is now leaning into him. His whole weight is, and if Wander shifted even a millimeter back Peepers would fall. “Ooh what’d he look like? I may know him!” 

“Like an old hag.” Hater crosses his arm, knuckles cracking in his clenched fists. His focus shifts to a smug emperor and zbornak who are watching Peepers intently. 

Wander gasps, “Hater!” 

Hater rolls his eyes at the reprehension. “Well it’s true his face looked like it was going to melt off. Well, it probably is now.” He mumbles the last part, shrugging. “So I totally did him a favor.” 

Wander glares, mouth opening but halts when purring fills the room. 

All pairs of eyes widening, everyone twists to study Peepers further. His eye is shut, thin drool filling the crevices of Wander’s fury palm. Wander bites his lip, eyes glimmering as a long high pitched squeal zooms up his system. He pulls Peepers closer, digging his fingers deeper into the back of his ears. Incredibly soft silky fur greets the pads of his fingertips, along with louder purring. 

Hater shoots up, fists and eyes erupting neon green. Mutely gulping Wander drops his hand, dragging his feet across the floor in a scooting backwards step. Sure enough Peepers rocks, barely catching himself before he plummets. A whines tears up his throat at the loss, more heated frustration shredding his pulsating heart. 

“Whoops, sorry Hater.” He lowly murmurs, a simper stretching the edges of his lips. 

Reality trickles back in for Peepers, the chaos assisting in it returning faster. Humiliation and rage wrestle in his chest, both quickly loosing and resting in the commander’s stomach in defeat. A, this time bad, shiver sliders down his spine as a cringe wrecks through him. He can’t believe he was just in Wander’s arms. 

“Oh ho ho, this is so going on the gram!” Awesome fingers soar across his keyboard, giggling to himself as he creates more hilarious hashtags. 

Peepers growls, far from fed up with all this. 

Flarg this! 

A sharp high growl shoots out of him as he leaps on Awesome, all his weight punching Awesome in his chest. The emperor staggers, and Peepers uses this opportunity to reach out for his phone. Speedily shifting his phone higher so the commander can’t reach, Awesome flings his chest tottery and get Peepers to loose his balance. Stumbling he grips him, twisting so they land onto the table. Awesome pins him down, fishing his phone back out to post the video and mock him. Dramatically he slowly inches his finger over to the post button, smirking down at Peepers whose gasping for breath at just getting his back and tail smashed into the table. He cringes at the sweaty chest that’s pinning him down. 

At the sight of Awesome’s mirthful eyes, fingers dancing above the post button Peepers kicks himself into action. He rolls, boot smashing into Awesome’s chest. As he swings his leg it flies up, sending Awesome’s phone skidding across the room. Peepers summersaults backwards, and his eyes meet Awesome’s challengingly. They both stare at each other, before staring at the phone across the room. 

The watchdogs who are supposed to be in the meaning linger in the doorway, puzzlement hazing their vision as they uselessly blink in the doorway. 

One of the watchdogs whips his phone out, flash on as he starts to film. The watchdogs follow in suit, all their phones focused on the fight in front of them.

Sylvia cackles, phone having been recording since the beginning. “Ha cat fight, literally!”

Awesome races across the room towards the phone, and from the table Peepers sprints. Using it as leverage he tackles Awesome’s back, screeching, “You flargin’ wannabe!” 

He waddles towards his phone, hands blindly fighting the commander as he swipes his phone up. His phone has locked, and he curses password protection. 

Peepers glances up, now noticing all the cameras on him. Grop, what’s the point of stopping Awesome now? 

He glares at everyone. “Is that all your natural reactions, to just film everything?!” 

No one offers any answer, instead all continuing to film. 

Awesome throws his hands in his tail, effectively stopping all his kicking and scratching. Peepers yelps, dropping to the floor. 

The emperor skids backwards, but remains close to the commander. “Ha man I hope this stays permanently!” 

Peepers is crouched on the floor, but ready to leap at him again. Wobbling he stands, tail throbbing. Awesome’s hand tumbles towards him, and Peepers stiffens. It lands back on his right ear, nursing it surprisingly softly as he starts to pet it again. This time his words fall to a loud moan that he sadly hears resonating through his large ears. Fire encompasses his limbs, yet it doesn't stop the blasted purring. 

“That’s cute.” He smirks, but it wavers once he sees Hater drowning in shades of electric greens behind Peepers. ”Later Hatey.” Taking it as his cue to go he runs out of the room, eyes wide. Once he exits the room his smirks molds into a genuine smile. 

Sylvia cautiously hits the end button on her recording, creeping over to Wander and gradually slipping her hand into his. “Hey buddy I think its time for us to go…” She whispers, struggling to keep her panic at bay. 

He nods, lips shaking in a simper, “Bye Hatey! Bye Mr. Peepers.” His grin shifts to a less startled one as his best friend drags him out of the room. Once she rounds the corner she start to run, tugging Wander along. 

Hater growls, all chartreuse eyes glowing to the watchdogs piled outside the door. They shrink backwards, cowering into each other. ”Meeting canceled.” He growls out, and all the watchdogs scurry. 

Peepers stutters as they all break away, not wanting to afford missing another meeting. They just canceled yesterday! “But sir! We just canceled yes-” Hater’s hand chewing into his cuts him off. “Ouch, si-“ A strong haul shuts the commander up, startled by Hater’s scorching outburst. His lividness rings in his ears, and through the thick humid fog he hardly makes out Peepers voice. Regardless, he ignores him as he drags him down the hall to his bedroom.


	4. Fluffy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took me so long! With finals being next week I've been super busy with school, and have had so many projects ugh. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

Hater continues to haul Peepers to his bedroom, hand constricting around his slim wrist. Watchdogs passing by throw them weary and puzzled glances, but shrug it off and continue on their way. They've seen a lot stranger on the skull ship. 

“Sir.” The commander shoves the octaves of his voice lower, attempting to bring his quaking heart to a steady jog.

It doesn't work.

Hater’s only response is to tighten his grip, legs moving even faster somehow. Peepers grounds the heels of his crimson boots into the marble floor, leaning all of his weight into his legs as he bends backwards, fighting to escape Hater’s grasp. All it serves to do is make the strain on Peepers arm worse, causing him to hiss.

“Sir.” His pitch heightens, along with his volume and pulse.

He rapidly rounds the corner, causing Peepers to trip and slam into Hater’s legs. If it weren’t for Hater’s death clutch, he would’ve dropped flat on his eye.

“SIR!” Thrown off by his eye meeting Hater’s rough bones, his lids are now taped shut. He moans in discomfort, bringing his loose hand up to desperately wipe his eye to clear his blurry vision.

“Sir please!” He whines, clutching the top of Hater’s arm to stay upright. His limbs are burning, struggling to keep up with Hater’s excoriating pace. He pushes them, but his legs no longer reach the ground. They hang behind him, and all attempts to walk end in his limbs sliding uselessly all over the place.

Thankfully for the commander, Hater’s finally reached his bedroom. He uses his foot to slam the door behind him, merely missing Peepers feet by inches. The walls tremble from the force of it, akin to Peepers crouched ears. His lids clench shut, ears roaring and tail fluffing as a wet hiss shoots out of him.

Abruptly Hater lets his commander go, causing Peepers to flail backwards. He barely manages to catch himself, shakily standing. 

Hater groans, bones smacking into his mattress as he falls face first into it. He clenches the corners of his pink blanket, rolling to cocoon himself in it. Pulling the sheet over his head he slumps flat into his pillow, growling. 

Peepers blinks, standing near the doorway stiffly. He sighs, body sagging as he cautiously treads on the pads of his feet over to Hater. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he lies the palm of his hand on Hater’s back. 

“Sir, what’s wrong?” 

All he receives is mumbles in response.

Peepers exhales roughly, removing Hater’s blanket hood. Immediately Hater tugs it back over his head, groans growing louder. 

“Sir.” Peepers nudges Hater’s back with his fingers. 

“Nothing!” Hater pops up, stomping towards the bathroom attached to his bedroom. “I’m tired let’s just go to bed.” He slams the bathroom door, leaving Peepers alone on the bed clutching an empty pink blanket. 

Peepers glances at the clock besides their bed. Typically he would be getting ready for bed right now, but Hater doesn't go to bed for several more hours. 

Honestly Peepers is exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and far from being in the mood to deal with Hater’s mood. Maybe it’d be best to just let him sleep on it. 

Stripping down to his boxers the commander draws the covers back, twisting onto his stomach and slinking under them. 

His lid droops, the feeling of the mattress bending under his weight bringing him immense comfort. 

Yet once he hits the pillow his senses screech, and his body pops up along with his cursed stinging ears. 

If only he could flarging sleep. 

He rests his forearm on the pillow so his ears aren't smashing against the pillow. Propping the top of his lid on this forearm, he stares down at the violet pillow case. 

The covers run against his tail uncomfortably but he deals with it. He knows once he lies still long enough the sensitive hairs on his tail will adjust to the material of the covers.

He exhales, warm fatigued air smacking his withering iris. 

Some time later, Peepers honestly couldn't guess how long it had been since he’s been trapped in a murky warm haze, Haters slams his feet heavily on the marble floor as he nears their bed. He tears the covers back, the feeling on Peepers tail analogous to waxing hair off a body. Peepers bites back a hiss, his mood darkening further since he had just gotten comfortable for once. Hater pulls the sheets up high and they drown Peepers completely, the corse material stabbing his ears. Slowly Peepers pulls his side of the covers back down. Instantaneously Hater yanks the covers off Peepers, rolling over and taking all the covers with him. 

Peepers sighs, before deadpanning. Real mature. But why would he expect more from Lord Hater? 

Frigid air dances over his rouge skin, and for the umpteenth time that week Peepers curses his luck. 

Yep, there’s no way he’s getting any sleep now. 

Desperately Peepers hopes Hater’s bad mood will fade in his slumber, and tomorrow he will forget about whatever he’s mad about… for Hater’s own sake. 

Salt saturates his mind, tainting his system with bitterness. If anyone should be mad it should be him! He’s been publicly humiliated in front of all their enemies, his own boyfriend even taking part in it by exposing him online. Grop, his own army betrayed him too! 

He doesn't know why he’s surprised; he really should have seen this coming earlier. Shoving the fury down, he shifts his thoughts to tasks for tomorrow. Planning always makes him feel better. It’s something organized and orderly, and a great way to space his thoughts out. It’s like reorganizing his brain, and leaves him refreshed. 

That is, until Hater comes along and bashes everything, or ignores it completely. 

But the brainstorming is fun, he supposes. 

At the realization that tomorrow will be day three, Peepers whole being hurts at the hope that explodes in his chest at the possibility that it could be his last day stuck like this. 

His heart stops, panicking at the reminder of the chance that he could be stuck this way forever. 

Having these appendages has ruined his life. Nothing good has come from them, and Peepers really couldn't see any positives from his… condition. Because of them Hater’s mad at him for some reason, and his enemies are laughing at him far more than ever. 

He shifts on his forearm to stare at the glowing clock, watching the numbers crawl by. In between the glowing digits, he studies Hater’s tossing and turning form. 

Two hours later Hater shifts, whining, “Grop Peepers I can’t sleep! I can’t get comfortable!” 

Tell me about it. Yet, Peepers is to tired to voice this even though he hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. 

“And I can’t stop thinking about it!” He shoots up, covers thudding to his knees as he glares at Peepers “How could you?!” 

Peepers whimpers, eye closing. He moans, twisting so his eye is back buried in his forearm. “Sir can we please talk about this tomorrow, no wait, the day after that? Or better off when these stupid cursed appendages vanish?!” 

Hater crosses his arms, sitting up to sit criss cross apple sauce. “Psh yeah, if they ever do.” 

“THANK YOU FOR THE REMINDER SIR! LIKE I ALREADY DON’T KNOW THAT!” He screeches, jolting up to stand on the mattress since it’s impossible to sit with his blasted tail. 

Onyx absorbs Hater’s chartreuse irises, and he brings his hands up to hang awkwardly in his chest. A nervous habit of his that Peepers has noticed over the years. “Sorry C Peeps I was just joking.” Defense begins to fill up in his apprehensive tone. 

“Yeah it’s all hilarious until these blasted things are on you! It is all so funny until the cameras are pointed at you, and everyone’s throwing their hands in parts they just shouldn't be in!” A shudder rips through his system, and he gags as the memories he’s been struggling to delete come back in full force. “Awesome touched me sir. AWESOME! And oh grop Wander too!” Peepers crouches into himself, shaking his head attempting to wipe the memories away. But they are stained in his brain, coming alive in vivid colors. He can still feel their fingers raking through his appendages, and he feels disgusting now at having the clear mind to comprehend who was touching him. 

“But I thought you liked it?” He meekly inquires, looking up at Peepers eye to try and gauge his feelings before his commander reveals them. 

Peepers blinks, staring at him. “What?” All his emotions tumble off him as he straightens, only confusion remaining. He tilts his head, staring at Hater. 

“When they touched you, you purred. And you didn't fight them off either, you did the opposite of that.” At the reminder Hater bristles, straightening. His consonants are sharper, his eyes narrowing and growing drabber. 

Peepers scoffs, crossing his arms. “Sir that’s because,” He falters, carefully considering his next words. How can he embarrass himself as little as possible? 

In the silence Hater’s blood boils, burning his limbs. He clutches his fists and jaw, each second of silence nearing to him exploding more and more. 

Peepers adverts eye contact, magenta blending into the edges of his iris. “I guess I’m part cat now.”

Hater blinks. “Yeah duh, everyone already knew that!” 

Peepers shakes his head, lowering his arms back to his sides. “When people pet cats and they start purring they kinda get in this headspace, and once a cat is in it it’s hard to get out of it. It’s like a black warm void where you can’t comprehend anything.” His spine jolts at his next judgement. “Sir you didn't actually think I would stand in Wanders arms?!” 

Hater sheepishly looks away, staring down at his blanket. 

Peepers rolls his pupil. “Grop sir, Hater,” Hater perks up, eyes widening as he gapes up at his commander. Peepers hardly ever calls him by his first name. He rests his hand on Hater’s hand. “You’re the only one I want to be with.” 

“Besides I wouldn't want a relationship with Wander of all people.” Peepers giggles at the thought of him and the wandering weirdo dating. Hater narrows his eyes. Then his amusement is burnt to a crisp and he frowns, swallowing the urge to retch. “Certainly not Awesome grop.” More images flood in of failure dates, and he cackles to himself again. 

At Hater’s face Peepers forces himself to stop laughing, wiping away the moisture that’s filled the brim of his lower lid. “Joking sir. Trust me I don't need anyone but you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” Peepers squeezes his hand, eye glistening. Hater shyly smiles. 

Then he straightens, looking off towards the door of his bedroom. “Yeah duh I totally already knew that, everyone wants me.” 

Peepers huffs, shaking his head. Hater’s typicalness fills him with relief, and slight amusement. 

Hater gives him a peck on the corner of his eye, whispering, “Love you C Peeps. Thanks, you always know what to say.” 

Peepers eye is sweltering, but it doesn't stop his lids from tilting into a grin. “Love you too sir.” 

Hater lies back down, and Peepers envies his ability to immediately get comfortable. He twists around, slinking down and lying on his stomach again. 

Before he can fully get situated arms bite into his waist, dragging him into Hater’s chest. His actions are faster than his brain, a pained hiss soaring out of his lids. Peepers stiffens, his tail fluffing out and ears flattening. 

Hater jumps, releasing Peepers. Anxiety bounces off his words. “I’m uh I thought…” Hater trails off, struggling to apologize. 

“It’s just,” Peepers turns around, lying stiffly on his hip and lifting his eye. He groans from having to hold his head up. He digs his elbow into his pillow, palm of his hand supporting his eye. “I just can't focus with the pressure on my ears or tail. I’m not used to having them and they ache. I just want to sleep. I don't want to feel them anymore.” Frustrated tears lick at his iris, and Peepers blinks to keep them at bay. 

There’s no way he’s going to cry. Especially not at something as stupid as this. 

Peepers turns his eye away from Hater, not being able to bare his frown. 

Probably of disgust of Peepers tears. His own commander crying over cat ears and a tail. 

All the while Hater’s eyes are glued to Peepers soot ears, his words from earlier echoing through his mind. He wonders… 

His commander sniffles, brining the back of his hand up to wipe viciously at his eye. “I’m sorry sir.” He mumbles, continuing to look away. 

Steadily Hater reaches out for Peepers ear with his hand, heart slamming against his rib cage. It shakes his frame, and Hater wrestles with his system to not shake. 

Abruptly Hater plants his hand in Peepers ear. Immediately his commander stiffens, and Hater almost removes his hand. 

He’s glad he didn’t. 

Peepers leans into him, staring up shyly at him.

Grop.

Neither of them can believe this is happening. 

Hater starts to pet his ear, and Peepers heavy lids droop to a close. With each stroke Peepers grows laxer, limbs melting.

With his other hand Hater rests it on Peepers back, sharply inhaling through his nose before he musters up the courage to pull Peepers back into his chest. 

Deep rumbling fills the air, and Hater can’t stop the wide grin that cracks his lips apart. 

He glances down at Peepers, whose lolling at Hater’s ministrations. His head follows his hand, and laughter trickles out of Hater's soft exhale. Peepers ears are warmer, and his purring intensifies. His eye remains closed, and after some time thin drool travels down his bottom lid. 

Hater laughs softly again, nestling his skull into his pillow while continuing to pet his commander. Through heavy lids he watches him, a simper staining his lips. 

Peepers looks so cute. 

Of course, Hater would never say this out loud. He didn't have a death wish. 

Resting his hand in Peepers ear he shuts his eyes, his smile and Peepers purring remaining throughout the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter is coming soon! Feedback fuels me :) 
> 
> Tumblr: hatesgreat-bestvillian


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